The Fool, The Wise, The Victim, The Killer
by Lawless5
Summary: NCIS is asked by the FBI to help them catch a killer who is targeting federal agents from all agencies who uses his victims in 3D replicas of famous paintings. Things begin to turn for the worse when members of Gibbs' team are targeted and the killer out matches Gibbs' every move, giving Gibbs only one option: run. It is a thriller. M for violence(not too gruesome) and language.
1. Chapter 1

"Any fool can paint a picture, but it takes a wise person to be able to sell it." ~ Samuel Butler 

Gravel flies in uneven directions as a massive foot pushes it forward so softly. The crunching sounds of the crushing foot, however, were not able to cover the cacophony of the atmosphere surrounding it. The foot stopped, and the owner lifted it up once more but only to step backward as his pride could no longer allow him to step forward. The man took off his hat as he felt the spitting of the light rain tickle his bald spot. He closed his eyes and sighed. What a tragedy. He opened them once more and gazed at the white woman whose red hair flowed lightly within the wind. The woman was still. Too still, in fact, that it frightened the man even more. He took a gulp and continued to step forward toward the scene. His eyes now became fixed on the woman. She was simply just sitting; her back was straight. She sat in an old rowboat painted black. The boat gleamed of a Viking nature as the man examined its texture with his eyes. Quilted blankets were placed underneath the sitting woman, and hung gently to the side revealing their complex stitching and coloured patterns. A lantern hung from the bow of the boat, its light no longer shining. The man stepped closer as the shadows of the night began to drift away from the woman's face revealing her features and expression. He gasped as he saw her face, almost tripping over his other foot as he stumbled backwards. The woman sat there, face that was carved with a knife to show a frown and her eyebrows drawn with blood to show her sadness.

"Is she….?" Stuttered a voice of a woman who stood behind the man. The man nodded.

"Yes, she is."

"What would you have me do?" the woman asked.

"Your job," the man said cruelly as he regained his balance.

Another man dressed tall in a dark blue suit with a light blue tie approached him from behind. He held a black umbrella up quite delicately. Unlike the man in front of him, his hands were steady. His umbrella did not shake, nor did his skin shiver from the sight. The man in front of him looked slightly behind him and recognized the man with the umbrella instantly.

"She was supposed to be under my protection," he said to the man with the umbrella.

"You couldn't have prevented this, Fornell-"

"BUT I SHOULD HAVE!" the man named Fornell shouted. "She was receiving notes and messages from the killer…It was like he knew her… but she didn't know him… she was staying with me at my house, Lawrence. MY HOUSE! THERE WAS NO SIGN OF A BREAK IN! THE DOOR WAS LOCKED! THERE WERE CAMERAS ON EVERY FLOOR OF MY HOUSE! YET SHE DISAPEARED OUT OF…FUCKING NO WHERE!"

"Agent Fornell!" the man with the umbrella named Lawrence exclaimed. "We will find out who did this to her, and we will find out how."

Fornell finally turned to face Lawrence, his cheeks red as fire and his eyes burning with anger.

"I think we may need some help from another agency. We could not solve this one even when Marie was alive, but now she's dressed up and her corpse is put on display! If this killer slipped past us, and not you but ALL of us…we may need to re-think our methods," Lawrence suggested.

Fornell nodded rapidly. "Excuse me, I have to find a bucket to puke in."

Fornell left the scene while Lawrence stood there starring at the display that was in front of him. "Agent Jones!" Lawrence called out. The woman who knelt beside the boat taking pictures stopped immediately. She got up and walked towards Lawrence as the rain began to fall a tad bit harder.

"Yes, Agent Lawrence?"

"What does it mean?" he asked as he pointed to the victim.

"I think it might be a replica of a famous painting."

"Why do you think that?"

"Well I was at the art gallery with my kids two days ago for a school field trip, sir, and this….reminds me of one of the paintings I saw."

"Find out which painting it is and find out if there is any symbolism or hidden messages associated with this painting."

"Yes, sir."

-x-

"Gibbs!" Vance the director of NCIS called out from the top of the stairs to the bullpen that lay below. The man named Gibbs nodded and ran up the stairs quickly and joined the director in his office. The director walked around the discussion table that stood in the middle of his office. He was silent for a few seconds but saw the look of impatience on Gibbs' face.

"I just received some news from Agent Lawrence and Agent Fornell of the FBI in regards of one of their agents, Agent Marie Collins. She was murdered by a killer who displayed her body in replica of a famous painting called Lady of Shallott by Waterhouse. This killer was sending messages to Marie before she was killed," Vance explained as he picked up the remote from his desk and clicked it to show the pictures of the messages Marie received on the TV screen across from them. "She showed Fornell the messages and they immediately had agents with her 24/7 everywhere she went, even the bathroom, she was not left alone. She stayed at Fornell's house with other agents and they even had video cameras. Here is the last footage of her before she disappeared."

A video appeared on the screen showing a light small guest room, with Marie just sleeping like a normal human being. After a few seconds the footage blinked like an eye and she was gone.

"Gone, Gibbs. Just like that. She was then found last night looking like this." Vance then showed the crime scene photos. Gibbs looked away for a split second finding the pictures horrendous.

"I've seen things in my life, but not like this," Gibbs admitted.

"They need our help Gibbs."

"And why aren't they here telling me that?"

"Because they haven't slept all night, especially Fornell, so I volunteered to break it down for you instead of having them come in when they can use the time they have to mourn and catch the killer. She was one of their best agents, Gibbs. Most of their team is too emotionally damaged to continue working. So Agent Lawrence asked me if NCIS could pitch in a little, and I gladly volunteered you and your team Gibbs," Vance said as he sat down at his desk. "I sent you an email with all this information in it so you can share it with your team, but you will have co-operate with Fornell and Lawrence for this case."

Gibbs nodded and left the room without a word.

The bullpen was quite as Gibbs team tried to take in what had happened to Agent Marie Collins.

"Well…shit…" Tony exclaimed as he placed his hands behind his head and leaned back on his chair.

"They gave us some evidence that was sent down to Abby, including the video camera that filmed her spontaneous disappearance. McGee, I want you to go down to Abby and help her with that. Tony you will go with me to the FBI and help with the crime scene and whatever they've got for us and Bishop I want you to stay here and see if you can trace those messages that Marie received and see if there is anyone she knows that has some connection to this." The team members all responded with 'yes, boss'. Tony got up from his leaning chair and picked up the gear bag that lay next to his desk. He walked quickly beside his boss trying to remain by his side but Gibbs was too quick. Gibbs was the first in the elevator and Tony had to push the doors to prevent them from closing on him.


	2. Chapter 2

"Art is not what you see, but what you make others see." ~ Edgar Degas

The sun shined brightly through the curtains as Jones took a breath and continued to stir the pancake mix. She kept squinting her eyes as she tried to remove images of her co-worker Marie Collins from her mind. She shook her head many times as well, causing her children's curiosity of their mother to unravel as they waited for breakfast to be made.

"mom," her ten year old son said. Jones unfroze from her day dreams and looked upon her son.

"Yes, Micheal?"

"You've been stirring that pancake mix for twenty minutes now."

"Oh! Right… sorry," Jones exclaimed as she put the bowl down. Michael got up from the table and walked towards her.

"Do you want me to make the pancakes? Dad taught me how!" he asked. Jones nodded silently as she looked into the eyes of her worried son.

After her 3 boys ate their breakfast and Jones walked them to their bus stop she quickly ran home. She could not get Marie off her mind. She was her best friend. What she must have gone through seemed absolutely dreadful. it pained her to think about it.

She felt a stack of paper under feet as she stepped onto her front porch. She looked down to see a large bulky letter that wasn't there when she left the house two minutes ago. She looked around her and only saw the quiet neighborhood with nothing but the usual sounds of lawn mowers and birds chirping. She took a deep breath and picked it up and headed inside the house. She looked down at the cover of the letter. No words but her name: Lily Jones. She quickly opened it, and as she ripped it open she cut her finger slightly.

"Ow." She pressed her paper cut to her lips as she could feel the sting linger upon her finger. She then finally opened the letter with her left hand and as it opened twenty square shaped small papers fell out and landed onto the floor. She slowly knelt down picking them up and noticed they all had letters written on them. She started to scramble it together, noticing that each word had every letter on each individual square paper had the same colour, giving her a better idea for what the message would read. She gasped loudly as the words were formed and as the sentence was formed. She then began to cry.

-x-

"Gibbs!" Fornell exclaimed in happiness as he saw Gibbs and Tony walk through his office door. "I am very glad to see you!"

"What can we do?" Gibbs asked.

"Well… we took down the display but we took lots of pictures. Marie is in our autopsy and the rest of the evidence as you know were sent to Abby. So, we need your help with figuring out who this killer is and what he wants, what is his motive and all that jazz."

"What have you got on him so far?" Tony asked.

"That's the thing. All we have are the messages that he sends and each of them wiped clean! We are hoping that Abby could maybe tell us where he got the paper but so far that's all we got."

"That's all you got? How long have you been on this guy?" Gibbs asked in a rather frustrated tone.

"two months."

"Two months?! You've got to be kidding me! After two months this is all you have!"

"Which is why we called you! He is playing us Gibbs and you know me I don't like to be played!"

Tony shook his head and wanted to break the tension between the two angry men but was afraid that he himself would get hit within this heated battle.

"Okay!" Tony finally said. "How many victims has he had?"

"He has had three. One was a retired homeland agent name John Gold and the other a retired CIA agent named Sandra Henderson, both agencies were tied up in other cases so they gave this one to us and then there's Marie."

"Was she about to retire?" Tony asked.

"No, she's thirty; she wasn't planning on retiring any time soon."

"So he's targeting agents and retired agents," Gibbs stated the obvious. Fornell nodded in agreement and Tony sighed as he leaned against the closest wall he could find.

"Do the victims have any connection with each other, personally?" Gibbs asked.

"Nope. They didn't know each other at all. Not even Gold and Henderson."

"You sure?" tony asked.

"Yes, I am sure Dinozzo! Look I didn't invite you here to ask me questions! I had you come here to answer them!" Fornell's fists gripped tightly as he starred at both of the NCIS agents in front of him. Fornell then lowered his shoulders after a few minutes of silence. He nudged his head to indicate the men to follow him. He led them down the hall and into a monitor room that was very similar to NCIS' MTAC. There too was a large screen that showed pictures of each of the victims. Agent Lawrence was waiting for them.

"Good morning Gibbs and Dinozzo," Lawrence greeted. "Fornell has been on this case for 2 months as you both know, and I have only joined in after Marie was killed. I'd suggest you sit down."

Gibbs and Tony nodded and sat down in the chairs that stood in front of the screen, Fornell later joined them. Lawrence pressed his clicker and showed a picture of the first victim. John Gold.

"The killer made a replica of the famous painting called the scream. John's face was squished and molded to make it look exactly like the painting. He was pinned against the wall while the rest of the painting was physically painted on the wall. He was found at an old abandoned house and the large back wall was used as this killer's canvas. The paint was examined and it contained no DNA except of animals. The paint was made from the blood of animals from a local farm that was next door. Dyes were used to add colour to the blood. The farmer reported that he had ten cattle missing. Their blood was found in the paint but the rest of them was never found."

Tony felt uneasy in his seat as Lawrence explained.

"John was also given messages from this killer. The messages were delivered differently than how they were delivered to the other victims. Again no DNA or anything was found on them. Next, we have retired CIA agent Sandra Henderson. She just retired two days before her death. She apparently thought that the messages were a prank from her coworkers since she was retiring. Her body was less gruesome than john's in fact she was displayed as the famous Mona Lisa by Da Vinci. Her corpse was painted with make-up to make her look younger. Her smile, however, was carved out with a knife such as how Marie's mouth was also carved to a frown. We are looking for a serial killer who clearly has thing for famous art."

"No one is perfect, Lawrence. He has to have made a mistake somewhere, somewhere he has to have left some DNA," Gibbs commented.

"That is why we are still looking," Fornell added.

"Check the first victims. If that was his first 'kill' then he clearly made mistakes then. He could have gotten better at what he is doing, so there will be less of a chance that we will find something with Sandra and Marie," Tony suggested. Lawrence smiled at that suggestion. He pointed to Tony to show his liking for his idea.

"Bring John's body back in autopsy and have the doctors look at him once more. Bring back the paint from the evidence locker and have it re-tested," Fornell ordered. Lawrence patted Fornell on the back as they were heading out the door. A light ring from Fornell's pocket began to tingle. "Just a second guys, … Agent Fornell….Jones? slow down, slow down!"

Gibbs and Tony stopped and listened as they could hear Jones' voice through the speakers of Fornell's cell phone. "He's coming for me!"


	3. Chapter 3

"Art, like morality, consists in drawing the line somewhere." ~ G.K. Chesterton

The squares of paper inked in colour blossomed with a simple phrase that was also complex. It was simple because it had only a few words. It was complex because it gave off two feelings: friendliness and horror. Abby placed each paper individually on her evidence table while Tony, Gibbs, Fornell, Lawrence, Jones, McGee and Bishop stood around her. The message read: We are going to be great friends Lily! Jones looked away she could not stare at it any longer. Her breathing stuttered in a million little pieces. Fornell looked over at her. He held her hand tightly as she looked back at him.

"What do I do now?" she asked. Fornell could feel her shivers through her delicate hand.

"We will have your family go into a safe house, and you will remain here with us," Fornell said. "Gibbs, can I talk to you outside?"

"Yeah."

Gibbs joined Fornell out in the hall while the others remained in Abby's lab. Fornell scratched his temple while the colour in his face darkened. "Can you watch over her?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah, I will."

"I would do it… but… I definitely failed with Marie… so…"

"She will stay here with me. Here in NCIS. No killer can get to her here. This building is secured and safer than my own home, than anyone's home!"

Fornell nodded and shook Gibbs' hand. "Thank you, Gibbs."

The two men rejoined the crowd of agents as they watched Abby look for any DNA or fingerprints on the paper.

"Ugh…this is so frustrating! I can't find anything on here! and having all of you watch me isn't helping either!" Abby exclaimed. "Sorry, I'm just a little stressed by this, guys."

Bishop placed her hand on Abby's shoulder. "It's okay Abby. I tried to compare the last messages to the previous ones but I see no connection."

"Any connection with the victims at all?" Gibbs asked. Bishop walked up to Abby's computer and began to type in her findings. Pictures of each message that every victim received was shown on the TV screen across from her.

"Each message would seem like a friendly message if let's say someone you knew sent them. For John, some of the messages kept asking him how his kids were doing and how his arm is in terms of baseball. All of these messages ask or talk to the victims about personal things that I would assume that no one knew much about or only their friends and family would know about. I just… if the only connection with the victims is that they are or were federal agents then how could the killer know these things? "

"So you're saying, that I will get messages about my kids and my hobbies and my husband and my life outside of work?" Jones asked nervously.

"It seems so," Bishop answered.

"Jones, you are going to stay here at NCIS. You will not leave this building; we will have agents with you 24/7. Nothing will touch you or harm you, I will promise you!" Fornell explained.

"Yeah, like you promised Marie? I can't stay here forever! I am a mother of three boys! If this case is going at the same rate as it has been for the past two months I will be here forever! You will not let me go home till you catch him, Fornell! I know you!" Jones left the room in protest.

"She was always stubborn," Fornell commented as he too left the room to chase after her.

"Jones! Jones!" Fornell yelled out as he ran for the elevator with Gibbs behind him. The doors closed right as the two men got in. Jones did not even bother to look at their faces. Gibbs grunted and pressed the stop button as the elevator stopped and lights dimmed.

"look! This killer slipped past your surveillance cameras and who knows how many agents to get to Marie Collins. You can see that this guy is fucking good! Hell, he is fucking fantastic, slipping past each of our fingers as this case draws on! Do you want your boys to lose their mother?" Gibbs argued. Jones faced him. Her eyes were red and she closed her eyes as she thought of her boys. Her beautiful boys. She answered Gibbs' question with a shake of her head.

"So, as a federal agent I need you to do your job and follow orders. Your orders are to remain here at NCIS. Your family will be watched over, and by the evidence we have so far I know that this killer doesn't target families he targets who he messages. He talks about their families but doesn't lay a finger on them. We will still take care of your family regardless in case he does surprise us, but right now his only interest is you!" Once Gibbs finished he pressed the button on the elevator and the elevator continued to go back up. Both Jones and Fornell remained silent.

-x-

"Okay so I hope that you will be comfortable here sleeping in MTAC it is the safest place in our building. You have a mattress, sleeping bag, pillow, some snacks and water. I will be joining you for the first six hours and then McGee will take over for the next six," Tony explained as he sat next to Jones.

"Thank you, Tony." Jones hugged her pillow tightly as she looked ahead at the big screen in front of her.

"You know, if you're not tired we could watch a movie," Tony suggested.

Jones laughed. "I warned by Agent McGee that you are quite the movie lover."

"Well, it's been a love affair of mine for quite some time! Okay, so I've got The Deer Hunter directed by the one and the only Martin Scorsese starring the beautiful and young Meryl Streep along with Robert De Niro, and Christopher Walken. It's a very sad movie though but a great one. If you're into comedies there is Monty Python and the Holy Grail a classic and hilarious movie. If you're more of a chick flick person there is the Devil Wears Prada starring Meryl Streep as well but she is more dangerous in this one. Or a cult classic, The Goonies! Loved this movie when I was a kid!" Jones admired Tony's passion for the movies he showed her. He pulled out many more explaining the pots without spoiling and mentioning which movies had one the most awards and who did the best acting.

"Or we could talk too if you're not into movies…but come on you have to see at least one of these!" Tony added.

"I've seen them all already."

Tony's eyes widened to her response.

"My husband is a movie lover, too. He would make me stay up all night when we were dating just to have a marathon of his favourite movies. He then got me hooked too," she explained.

"wow. You did not come across as a movie lover to me."

"Well I haven't seen much anymore after I had the boys. I just never had the time. All I've been watching is the wiggles, elmo, and the Muppets."

"Ah, well the Muppets are great though."

"They are! I was rather impressed with them."

Tony began to chuckle and Jones joined him.

"Oh I haven't laughed this much in a long time."

"The case really brought you down?"

"Yes, I've been working on it with Fornell and Marie ever since the first victim. Even my family noticed how much it has changed me. And now that I am to be the next victim…well it just adds to all the shit."

Tony sighed as he studied her expression. She was broken even before the messages came to her.

"Here, let's watch one even though you've seen it. Just to get all of this out of your mind," Tony suggested. Jones smiled.

"I would love that."

The night grew longer as the two agents watched Monty Python and the Holy Grail. It was picked because Jones wanted to laugh she didn't want to feel the pain and fear she was feeling. As the movie finished she fell asleep and Tony lay next to her waiting for McGee to show up to take over the next six hour shift. He did not close his eyes for one second even though he knew that it was safe in MTAC he still did not.

The next morning Jones woke up with McGee asleep on the chair next to her. She rubbed her delicate eyes and sat upright. She looked down to see a piece of paper at her feet to which she assumed was left there by Tony. She grabbed it and gasped. McGee instantly woke and fell out of his seat.

"What? What?" McGee said. Jones held out the paper that read: _finding a new place to sleep are we?_


	4. Chapter 4

"At some point in life the world's beauty becomes enough. You don't need to photograph, paint, or even remember it. It is enough." ~Toni Morrison

"Only you two were watching over her last night! And you don't know how that paper got in there?" Gibbs exclaimed while McGee and Tony stood like a deer in headlights in front of him.

"I fell asleep for literally twenty minutes, boss. No more than twenty, and Tony was awake the whole time!" McGee protested.

"It seems like such an ordinary piece of paper that anyone could have written on, I don't get it. How do we know if it's from the killer and not a prank?" Bishop asked.

"There was no prank, probie! Look it wasn't there when I left, so I am not to be blamed!" Tony ejected.

"And I am to be blamed? I am just as innocent as you are!" McGee jumped in.

"Enough! I want that paper examined by Abby now! I want all security videos to be checked. I want answers!" Gibbs ordered. The team members rushed to their desks quickly doing their assigned jobs while Gibbs leaned forward on his desk. He rubbed his forehead as his heart pounded with rage. The confusion of this case was getting to him. He didn't know where to start, what to do. It seemed that everything he tried has led to a dead end.

"Nothing connects… nothing… why does nothing fucking connect!" he whispered to himself as he kicked his desk. Tony looked over at Gibbs while his hands began to shake over his keyboard. He was very afraid to even say a word to Gibbs. He glanced over at Bishop seeing her sit on the floor legs crossed as per usual chewing the end of her pencil as she starred at the forensic reports of the first two victims blankly.

-x-

Jones looked at herself in the mirror in the NCIS ladies bathroom while a female agent stood behind her. She hated being followed around. She splashed some water in her face as she tried to soak in everything that was happening. The door opened and Bishop popped her head through. "Is it ok if I talk to her for a bit?" Bishop asked the agent who was watching over Jones. The woman nodded and left the bathroom.

"Hey," Bishop said as she joined Jones in front of the mirror. "Look, I know that it's really hard for you right now but umm…If you need someone to talk to…like someone who isn't a guy, just don't hesitate to come talk to me. I will listen if you need me."

"Thank you, Ellie. You're very thoughtful. I just can't stop thinking about my kids and Todd, my husband. I bet you today I will get another message from the killer and then in a few days I'll be displayed in some famous painting that I saw at the gallery."

-x-

"Another message?" Abby asked nervously. "That is three now!"

McGee didn't stood silently beside her. As she looked at the piece of paper that read: _I hope that Michael plays the trombone exceptionally at his end of the year concert._

"How is she taking it?" Abby asked once more.

"badly."

"Well there is no point in me testing this because all it's going to give me is the same stupid result!"

"Abby! Come on"

"no! I am tired of this McGee! we need to try something different because all I see is us mopping around complaining about how our methods are not working. This guy is good! So he clearly has some forensic background!"

"Yes, my dear I believe he does," jumped in Ducky as he entered Abby's lab. "I tried to make a psychological profile on this killer, they are calling him the painter I hear? Well, this painter, like you said Abagail, must have some forensic knowledge and is of course a lover of art. So I have a list that miss Ellie Bishop was kind enough to get for me. But I'd suggest you call down Tabaias and Jethro first."

The agents all gathered around Ducky as he and Bishop explained their new findings.

"I found a list of people who studied forensics and who may have done a minor in art or perused it as a hobby and sold paintings in fairs and etc. if we question all these people we should be closer to finding some kind of connection," Bishop explained.

"And in addition to that information. I have done a profile on the painter, and he has seemed to have fallen in the category of psychopathic killer however with some sort of hatred against federal agents. Here are the documents, I hope that these will help," Ducky added as he handed a folder to Gibbs.

-x-

Vance got out of his car early the next morning. The breeze hit his face like an accent on a musical note. The wind did not agree with him that morning. He felt his palms sweating as he reached the elevator, however, the day was very cool and non-humid. He had a shiver for some reason to which he could not place his tongue upon. He wondered if it had to do with the suspense of the case. He shrugged it off and walked through the bullpen to his office. He noticed that his assistant was not at her desk.

"Doesn't even bother to call that she's late," he muttered to himself as he unlocked the doors of his office. He stepped in.

"HOLY SHIT!" he yelled out. He dropped his suitcase beside him as he fell backwards. A wooden white painted horse was placed right through his meeting table. The table was cracked and broken. The white wooden horse had a red cloak with gold embroidered horses on it lay on its backside. A naked woman sat upon it, while one arm covered her breasts and the other held onto the wooden horse. The woman's hair was flowing down and her head looked down between her breasts. Vance tilted his head slightly to see her face. It was Jones.


	5. Chapter 5

"Art is when you hear a knocking from your soul — and you answer." ~Terri Guillemets

Yellow tape stretched across the stairs reflecting every light that passed through the ceiling windows ever so gently. A shivering director sat in a desk chair breathing in through a brown paper bag while his assistant rubbed his back, calming him down. A blonde Bishop, wearing her NCIS jacket passed him with a camera in her hand. She, too, trying to hold in her panic. She walked up the stairs slowly while the director's office became slightly visible. She wanted to look away but she couldn't keep her eyes off of the office. The office became clearer as she walked closer. Her chest rising in a rapid pace. She then saw it. The wooden horse and the woman on it. The woman that she tried to help protect. As she entered the office she felt the silence between the team members. Even Abby was there, for she felt guilty for just sitting in her lab while she waited for evidence. Part of her wanted to see it for herself. To see the work of this killer in the flesh. It wasn't as satisfying as she thought it would be. Instead, it felt like someone who took food from a hungry child and played with it.

"Abby, you don't have to be here," Gibbs said softly in her ear. Abby shook her head.

"No, I wanted to come. I wanted to see it. I wanted to feel angry, so I can have motivation to find evidence so you can kick his ass!" She responded crossly. Gibbs had no words for her. He only placed his hand on her shoulder and gave her a kiss on the cheek. She did not move. She just stood there staring at the monstrous display. Tony, on the other hand, had never been so quiet ever in his life, other than the time when he found Jenny Shepard killed in an abandoned diner. He just bagged evidence and took pictures.

Gibbs turned his head and saw Lawrence and Fornell enter the room. Fornell knelt to the ground as he saw his other team member's corpse placed on a wooden horse. Lawrence didn't move a muscle. His hands did not shake. Fornell, on the other hand, could not take it anymore. He got up and walked right out of the office. Lawrence did not follow. Lawrence strolled around the art piece. He gazed at the broken table that surrounded the horse.

"Surveillance catch anything?" he said as he stopped his circling and joined Gibbs by his side.

"Maybe. I donno. The video feed from last night from midnight to four in the morning was cut out and either taken or deleted. McGee is at the security office right now checking to see if there are any loop holes," Gibbs answered.

Lawrence sighed. "She was a hell of an agent. It's a shame that someone would do something like that," he commented.

Gibbs walked up towards the wooden horse. He studied its texture, and its build.

"How the hell would someone get a horse into this office?" Lawrence asked.

"Its pieces were made separately. It was pieced together right here in this office," Gibbs answered.

"How does one have the ability to bring all of these props into a secure building and then kill a woman without anyone noticing and then spend what I would assume would be hours on this in the director's own office?" Lawrence asked again.

"Well, I donno Lawrence!" Gibbs snapped.

"That question was rhetorical, Gibbs."

Gibbs stepped closer to the wooden horse. He knocked on it.

"It's hollow. Dinozzo get someone to help you get her down from this horse. I want to see if there is anything inside it."

Tony nodded as he and few agents struggled to remove the large pole that was cut through Jones to hold her on the wooden horse. Nails were driven through her legs to hold her; a drill had to be used to unscrew them. Once they got her off, and the body was taken down to autopsy, Gibbs grabbed a large sledge hammer and smashed the stomach of the wooden horse. An arm hung out as a hole was made. A man wearing a security uniform was dead inside.

"Well, now we know why no one noticed," Gibbs commented.

-x-

Autopsy was cold and dark. Each table filled with bodies, including the ones transferred from the FBI unit. NCIS seemed to have taken full custody of the case and the FBI helped. Too many FBI agents were mourning and emotionally unstable to continue the case. Ducky and his assistant Jimmy Palmer stood at the back of the room. Each table was filled with a victim of the painter. John Gold, Sandra Henderson, Marie Collins, Lily Jones, and Richard Tucker the security guard. Ducky took a deep breath. He walked towards Jones' corpse and placed his hand upon her cheek.

"I am happy he did not run a knife through your face, madam. I hope that this may be comforting to hear, your children and husband are safe and no harm will come to them," Ducky said to the corpse. "Mr. Palmer, would you please examine Mr. Tucker's body as I examine Mrs. Jones' body."

"Yes, Doctor."

Ducky took out his knife and cut her open. He noticed a small piece of an apple slice stuck in her wind pipe. "Oh dear, it seems choking is what killed you. Nice and clean and no damage to the skin so his painting could be perfect. He must have forced it down your throat."

"The guard was stabbed in the kidney so his death was a bit more violent than hers," Jimmy commented.

"He was foiling the painters plan, Mr. Palmer. So he killed him and the only way he could use him without ruining his design would be to stuff him in the stomach of a wooden horse," Ducky added.

"I just, don't get how someone could do something like this. The labor and time to do such a piece of work is ridiculous. And to do it in a secured building like NCIS… what if he is here, somewhere watching us. And…and… one of us will be his next victim? Like, he got into MTAC and the director's office! MTAC is the most secure place in this building! If the painter can get in there, then there is nowhere that the next victim can hide!" Jimmy exclaimed.

"Yes, you are correct Mr. Palmer. Let us just pray that none of us will be the next victim."

-x-

"I think after seeing what I saw in my office yesterday, I may have to go into therapy," Vance admitted as he Fornell, Lawrence, and Gibbs sat in the meeting room at NCIS. "FBI isn't safe; NCIS isn't safe, homeland, CIA! What next, gentlemen?! If one of our own NCIS agents get a message and becomes the new target, how can I help them? How can I save them? We have made no progress! It is just the same shit, over and over again! If we do not pick up our slack, we will all be killed off one by one. Hell, maybe he will target more than one? Maybe he will decide to make a group picture!"

"I think we need to change our angle of things, Director," Lawrence suggested.

"And what kind of angles are you suggesting?" Vance asked.

"Patterns," Gibbs jumped in. "Look, this guy has to have some pattern. Yes, we know one pattern. Agents, federal agents. But how does he choose them? That is what we need to figure out so we can predict his targets."

"Predicting targets won't do anything, we need to catch this bastard so there won't be any new targets!" Fornell added in.

"Look, I think we should leave the evidence to NCIS. Let us deal with the bodies and the evidence. FBI should deal with a profile of this killer. I want to know who he is, what he does, where he sleeps, even where he shits! I want to know everything you can find on this psychopath! I am also, going to call in homeland and CIA , for this case is getting bigger than I had hoped it would be. We clearly cannot control it, even on our own home ground. So I am going to get all the help I can fucking get!" Vance ranted.

"well, this place seems lively," the secretary of the Navy commented as she entered the room.

"Madame Secretary," Vance said.

"Sorry to interrupt your debates, gentlemen, but I agree with Director Vance. We need to catch this killer. I do not want any agents of mine or of any other agency to die. I have come to inform you all that the president has been informed of this so-called, painter. He wants to give NCIS the full custody of this case with the aids of FBI, homeland, CIA. British secret service sent me this." SecNav handed Vance a folded envelope. "They heard of what was happening on the news, they too have unsolved cases of a killer who started his work in France and then continued to Great Britain. This killer also killed random victims that were unrelated and placed them in a replica of a famous painting. They called him Le Peintre. They are willing to hand over all evidence they have on this killer."

"Thank you," Vance said.

"Be careful out there, boys. The world is cruel place," She commented as she left the room.


	6. Chapter 6

"Believe those who are seeking the truth. Doubt those who find it." ~Andre Gide

* * *

"Well I guess I will throw my list of American suspect possibilities out the door," Bishop said as she walked around Abby's lab.

"Well he must be French if he started killing in France. We just need to figure out why he decided to come to America," McGee added as he tapped away on Abby's computer.

"Maybe he met someone?" Abby asked.

"Yeah, that would make sense. If he met someone that maybe influenced him or gave him motive to kill American federal agents?" McGee continued.

"Hey! We have some kind of a lead now! He must have gotten himself into a situation with federal agent which made him start to have a hatred for federal agents!" Bishop jumped in.

"Okay, I am going to find a list of federal agents from all agencies that traveled to the UK or France on assignment during the time his killings were occurring," McGee said.

"Oh yes! Finally something to follow up on!" Abby rejoiced.

-x-

The moon smiled at the lake below. The sounds of the wind blowing gently against the grass and of the leaves of the large willow tree that hung over the small lake. Soft pale feet began to step into the shallow end of the water. The owner was a woman, a woman who wore a white flowing nightgown. Her hair was black, and unlike her usual style her hair was completely let down. Her waves accented her shoulders and bounced as she gradually moved toward the falling branches of the willow tree. As she reaches her fingers trail along the soft leaves and flower buds. She closes her eyes and begins to twirl. A twig cracked from the distance causing her stop. She looked back over to the shore and saw a tall figure standing there. The figure stood there for only a few seconds. It then began to move quickly toward her. She gasped and began to run toward the middle of the lake. The water began to deepen and she could no longer touch the bottom. She could hear the splashing behind her get closer and closer. She began to swim and swim but she was too slow. In fact, she swam and swam but she did not move. She stayed in the same place and could not move forward. She kicked the water behind her harder and harder and she pushed with her arms with her full strength but she still didn't move an inch. She felt a pair of hands grab hold of her shoulders and forcefully pushed her down. She screamed so loud till the air within her lungs was replaced with lake water.

Abby gasped so loudly it made her choke slightly causing her to cough hard. As she caught her breath she looked around her and saw no water, no lake, no man behind her, no willow tree. It was just a dream. She shook her head and squeezed the sides of her hair. She then leaned over to turn on the light. The room was instantly filled with colour and familiarity. She sat next to the side of her bed and picked up her phone and called McGee instantly.

Twenty minutes past and a knock was heard from her apartment door. She opened it instantly and McGee was standing right in front of her. "Oh thank God!" she cried as she hugged him. McGee snugged his face into her shoulder as he held her tightly.

"So what happened in this dream?" He asked as he entered her apartment.

"I was standing in a lake under a willow tree and some guy attacked me and I couldn't swim away. Like, I was swimming and swimming but I wasn't moving! And then he tried to drown me. And the scary part about it McGee was that I really felt him when he pressed his hands on my shoulders, like there was someone there! Pushing me down in real life! I have never felt any sense of touch in any of my dreams before. Like ever! And…and… I can still feel on my shoulders like someone is still pressing down on them…."

"Hey, shh, shhh, it's okay," McGee jumped in as he immediately pulled her in to hug her. "Listen, it's this case. You've been wound up in it, all of us have. It's…It's… to be honest, I find it the most terrifying case I have ever done. And it's causing you to dream these things."

"But the touch, McGee! How do you explain that?" She cried as tears rolled down form her face and onto McGee's hoodie.

"I don't know, Abby. I am not an expert in dreams, sorry….ugh, Abby?"

"Yea?" she answered as she lifted her head from his shoulder.

"Did you bring home some of the evidence?"

"No, why?"

"Then what's that doing th- no…no…no….no…" McGee began to panic to which transferred to Abby. She turned around and saw sticky notes all aligned on her coffee table. It read: _Dreaming about me?_

Abby immediately cried out as she gripped McGee's sweater almost tearing it off.

"We have to call Gibbs, now!"

"I don't wanna die… McGee I don't wanna die!"

"You're not going to die, Abby! I won't let you die!" McGee held her tight as she cried in his arms. His arms began to shake. Not Abby. Not her. No please. She isn't even an agent!

"We have to go to Gibbs, Abby! Right now! We have to go to him."

McGee quickly let go of her and ran to her kitchen and searched each door.

"What are you looking for?"

"Ziplock bags! Where do you keep them?"

"Third cupboard to your right."

McGee quickly pulled out a plastic bag and ran to the coffee table he turned the bag inside out picking up every sticky note with the bag over his hand. Once all were picked up he turned the bag back to normal and closed it.

"Abby, go get dressed. Right now, come on!" Abby nodded and did what he asked. McGee held the plastic bag tightly in his hand. He squeezed his eyes in anger yet also despair. He stared at the coffee table in front of him. The dark wooden coffee table. He stared at it as though it had done the deed. He wanted to kick it, to punch it, to break it. He had never felt this emotional ever in his life.

-x-

"You are going to be by my side, Abby. Always by my side or McGee's. Never leaving it," Gibbs said as the shaken Abby and McGee stood in his kitchen.

Abby nodded.

-x-

"So the forensic evidence will be transferred to the FBI? now that Abby isn't going to do them cause of the...yeah..." Bishop asked.

"No to the CIA, right now they want us to focus on autopsy, bolos and taking care of Abby," Tony answered as he and Bishop sat on the floor of the bullpen.

"We can't have just one person with her, we need more than one. The painter killed the security guard that was with Jones, it will be hard for him to kill multiple to get to Abby," Bishop commented.

"Lawrence was supposed to be with Jones, but apparently he asked the guard to take over while he looked over case files," Tony added.

"How did you know that?"

"Surveillance tapes caught one thing: Lawrence speaking to the guard and asking him to take over watch. If Lawrence was there then he'd probably be the one in the wooden horse."

"Why didn't Lawrence say anything?"

"yeah, I've been wondering that too."

"huh…" grunted Bishop as she ran to her laptop that sat on her desk. "Isn't Lawrence one of a few many people who can enter any federal eye scan system and finger print system?"

"Is he?"

"Yeah, I remember hearing Vance say something about how he is one of very few feds who can enter secure federal places cause his eyes and finger prints can scan through all the federal locks, like in MTAC."

"Wait…what are you saying?"

"Hmm… I don't think we should talk about this here. Follow me." Bishop grabbed her macbook and yanked Tony's arm. Tony got up and followed her. Both walked quickly through the hall and Bishop stopped at the woman's bathroom. She pushed the door open slightly to see if anyone was inside. Once the coast was clear she pulled Tony inside and quickly locked the door. She sat on top of the sink and opened her laptop.

"He can enter and have access to any secured room at NCIS, CIA, homeland, and FBI. Even rooms in the white house! He used to part of the CIA so that's how he got the access and I think he still has it," she continued.

"So…"

"So, don't you find it at least a bit fishy that he asked the guard to watch over her to do 'paperwork', he could have easily done the paper work while she was with him!"

"Are you saying that Lawrence is a suspect?"

"He could be! Cause it would explain the messages getting into MTAC, he knew all the victims!"

"But what about Le Peintre from Europe?"

"Maybe they aren't the same guy? I bet you Lawrence went to France and/or the UK on an assignment once in his life especially if he worked the CIA before FBI. He could have met the killer and got inspired or something."

"So he could be a copycat killer?"

"Yeah, I guess so!"

-x-

"Hey Lawrence! Can I speak to you for a sec?" Gibbs asked as he caught Lawrence in the hallway.

"Why, yes? How can I be of service?" Lawrence asked.

"It's probably best if we do this in private."

"Ah, right."

Gibbs led Lawrence into the interview room where bishop and Tony waited for them. Tony pulled out a chair for Lawrence. Lawrence gave Tony a crude look.

"Thank you for being a gentlemen Tony, but I think I can pull out my own chair, thank you." Lawrence pulled out a chair from the opposite end of Tony. "Now, what news about the painter do we have today?"

"Why did you ask a guard to cover your shift with Agent Jones?"

Lawrence. Let out a smile as though he knew that Gibbs would ask that question.

"I had to go and get some of the reports from autopsy that your doctor gladly forgot to give to me. And I guess I got carried away in reading them."

"from midnight to four in the morning?"

"my shift, Gibbs, was from nine to one. The Agent who had their shift from one to five was supposed to show up. I assumed that they would take over and the guard would go back to his duties. I was only gone an hour."

"There was no other agent scheduled to be with her at that time. A schedule that you made!"

"I scheduled FBI agent Cratts to be with her. I realized that I had forgotten to fill in that slot so I emailed Cratts to take that shift!"

"Did you forget to press send to that email?"

"I know what you're doing, Gibbs. I've heard all the stories. I've seen your tricks. You are trying to break me. And what you are trying to break is a hardboiled egg that has nothing inside it but innocence. I am trying to solve this case just as much as you are! And instead of giving up, which judging by your process you probably considered it, you pick someone to blame. And just because of that one small thing like asking a guard to watch over someone you assume that they are somehow involved. I am very disappointed in your lack of judgment Gibbs."

"My lack of judgement? Your eyes and finger prints can get into any secure federal buildings and rooms!"

"And so do many others! If you are referring to the incident in MTAC any agent could have opened it and brought that paper in."

"Don't you blame my agents!"

"Then don't blame me! I am finished with this bullshit. How about you all go back and do your fucking jobs!" Lawrence rapidly got up from his seat and was out the door instantly.

"He's hiding something, I can feel it," Gibbs whispered.


	7. Chapter 7

"Kind words do not cost much. Yet they accomplish much." ~Blaise Pascal

Water brushed through her fingers as Abby swung them lightly through the bath water. She watched as the water droplets dripped one by one from each finger. There was no soap in the water, it was just plain water. The water was cool and yet it felt soft upon her skin. Her eyes closed as she took a deep breath and washed away her fear as best she could. She then opened her eyes, and felt nothing. Nothing. It was wonderful. No feelings, juts pure nothing. Then the feeling of happiness sprung within her. She smiled. It seemed as though her memories of the painter and his work and his messages were gone from her mind. She closed her eyes once more. Then opened them again. The bath tub was no longer small. She looked around and saw the golden edges of the tub stretch and grow farther and farther until she could no longer see it. It was just her naked in a pool full of water. A waterfall then appeared, like it was falling straight from the sky. It filled the body of water making it rise higher and higher until Abby could no longer feel the bottom of the large golden tub. Happiness then turned to panic. She struggled as the water around her began to rise. The sound of gears turning began to burst into the air as she looked up and saw what would have been the roof of a cage. It stopped moving, but the water continued to rise. Panic turned to scared, and to sad, and to angry, and to a million emotions punched into one, driving Abby's mind mad. She was trying to focus on the rising water but the burst of emotion hit her like a ton of bricks. She pressed her hands upon her ears and screamed while her legs treaded water. The water rose and she felt the roof of the cage hit her head. She let go of her ears and placed her hands upon the lead bars and pressed her mouth through the opening of one of the squares. She tried to breathe large gulps of air but the water took that opportunity away from her. She started to fall slowly downwards, her hair flowing within the waves of the water.

Abby gasped loudly as she sprung out of her bed, instantly waking McGee as he slept beside her. Abby's gasp turned into a panic as she was having trouble finding air. McGee held her shoulders trying to calm her down. The door burst open and Gibbs entered the room with his gun at the ready. Once he noticed McGee holding Abby he dropped his gun and rushed towards her. He pressed his hands upon her cheeks and looked her into her eyes. Her tears rolled down onto his hands, and he kissed her forehead and pulled her into his arms. Her rapid moving chest slowed down as she leaned herself into his embrace while McGee lightly messaged her back with his left hand.

"I felt the water on my hands. Water. It was everywhere…" Abby stuttered. Gibbs looked over her shoulder and saw something he didn't want to see.

"shit," he muttered. McGee caught onto Gibbs' frightened stare and looked behind him. On Abby's pillow just sitting there was a pink sticky note. McGee got up and grabbed a tissue and used it to pick up the sticky note. On it, it read: _ I find bath's rather relaxing, don't you?_

"There are no windows in this room, Boss. I was right beside her and you were right outside the door," McGee said puzzlingly.

Gibbs looked up, stilling holding Abby as her heart rate increased. He studied the ceiling. He let go of Abby and walked up to each wall and knocked on it. Each sound of the knock was the same for each wall. He then grabbed a chair and knocked on the ceiling. Every knock the same, except near the corner of the right side of the room. It sounded hollow. He got off the chair and left the room for a few minutes he came back with a small hammer and hammered on that corner of the ceiling, rather lightly. The corner ceiling instantly collapsed and revealed a square shaped opening. "McGee, there's a flashlight in the first drawer of the night table," Gibbs said as McGee quickly searched for it. He found it and threw it gently to Gibbs. Gibbs managed to catch it. He popped his head through the hole and turned on the flashlight.

"He built a tunnel in my roof. That must've taken a few hours, I think I would've noticed," Gibbs commented.

"Boss, I think he might've known that we would bring Abby to your place to sleep, and built the tunnel when we were at work," McGee added in.

"yeah. He is ahead of us every time no matter how far we step forward."

"Did Lawrence know about Abby being hear?" McGee asked.

"No. We told him she'd be at your place."

"Then maybe he is telling the truth about him not being involved?"

"Nah. He knows that we don't trust him, so he probably knew that we'd lie to 'em."

Gibbs stepped down from the chair and looked over at the clock on the wall. 2:30 am.

"Tonight, I'm gonna have us, Dinozzo, and Bishop sleep somewhere with Abby. Two of us won't cut it."

-x-

Gibbs didn't know where he could safely discuss matters with his team. He didn't know who to trust anymore. Lawrence was out of the question. But someone is always watching and someone is always listening. Gibbs came up with the idea of convincing Vance, via text (that seemed like the only secure-ish thing to do now in terms of communication), to give Lawrence a task that would allow him to be separated from Gibbs and his team. Vance agreed and immediately deleted the texts after receiving them. Now that Lawrence was out of his way, Gibbs tried to figure out who else he had to remove from the picture. He trusted Fornell, but his gut preferred not to associate with him during this case. Fornell's emotions had taken over after the death of his agents. Gibbs feared that his emotions would take over his actions and his mouth. Now, where to speak and where to meet without anyone knowing and seeing. Gibbs' house was now out of the question, in fact any of their private homes for that matter. Tony found an abandoned cottage just outside DC, and so far it seemed like the only thing fit. Vance made sure that everyone knew that Abby was going to stay at one of Gibbs' team's homes. But she in fact was to be staying in that abandoned cottage that Tony found.

The cottage was small but somewhat cozy. Gibbs had McGee and Tony search and check every corner of the place; sealing anything that needed to be, covering up the windows, and placing hidden cameras in every corner. McGee even installed a security system that would set off an alarm if anyone that the computer did not recognize (so anyone who is not Gibbs, the team, or Abby) was on the property. The security system stretched through a kilometer radius, giving McGee full access to everything that was around. Two people were instructed to patrol the outside of the cottage, while the other two stayed inside with Abby. Every three hours the shifts rotated. Gibbs made this place as secure as he possibly could.

"No one will be hurting Abby, tonight," He muttered.

The night was long. Abby couldn't sleep, nor could anyone for that matter. No one even really talked to each other, all afraid that someone would hear them if they do. The lights were off and McGee gave everyone night vision glasses. They wanted to be as invisible as they possibly could.

-x-

McGee's head jerked up and down as he tried to refrain from falling asleep. Gibbs slammed a red bull on the desk beside McGee, startling him. "Stay awake, McGee."

"I know, Boss. It's hard though. "

"But it will be worth it if we save her."

"Yeah, I know."

McGee's watch then ticked. "Time for the switch."

Gibbs and McGee both got up from the desk, while Abby was asleep on her bed. Gibbs opened the door and looked around to see where Tony and Bishop were. "Tony?" He called out softly. No answer. Gibbs turned on his flashlight and walked out of the cottage. McGee stayed at the door frame. Gibbs circled the cottage and did not find them.

"Where the fuck did they go?" he said angrily as he got back to McGee.

"Ugh…Boss…" McGee started as he pointed across from him. Gibbs pointed his flashlight towards that direction. He saw two bodies lying on the ground and he started to panic. He ran through towards them immediately. Both Bishop and Tony side by side on the ground not moving. Gibbs saw two small needles pressed into their necks. "What the-?" suddenly he felt a sharp pinch of pain within the side of his neck. He dropped his gun as he felt everything mush together like milk around him. His eyes became red and turned to see McGee on the ground in front of the door. "No…" muttered. He turned his head and saw a black shadow enter the cottage. After that moment, he collapsed and everything went dark.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Thank you so much for all the wonderful reviews! I love reading them and i am glad that you all are enjoying my story :) Sorry for the late update after that last suspenseful chapter, I was at my cottage for the weekend and there is no internet there. But here is the new chapte! enjoy! :)

* * *

"To dare is to lose one's footing momentarily. To not dare is to lose oneself." ~Soren Kierkegaard

The sun rose that morning giving the earth an unpleasant smile. The sky had no clouds, but the sky was red. In fact, it seemed as though the sun was setting, for it preformed its rise with darker colours and stole the warmth instead of giving it. The sun was not peasant that day. It began to shine lightly upon a pale face whose eyes had awoken from unconsciousness. The eyes opened slightly, giving the owner a small view of the tall tree trunks that stood in front of her. She felt pain all through her back, along the back of her arms, her legs, and her feet. She attempted to move her head to give herself a better view of where she was but her head would not allow her. It was as though it was stuck, or someone or something was holding it back, taking away her freedom to look around. So she relied on her eyes, her eyes looked forward and opened slightly more. She saw the whole of the forest in front of her. A patch of grass gave one meter of space between her and the tall wet trees of DC. She couldn't think, for her head and practically everywhere hurt so much that that was all she focused on. She began to forget what she was searching for, for all she did was close her eyes and tried to move but when she did a shot of pain hit her body all over. She stopped moving. She opened her eyes fully, this time. She moved her eyes downwards and saw that her feet were not touching the ground. They were floating above it, but they too did not move. She could not see what they were attached to; her eyes could not see that far down. She moved them to her right. She saw a dark wooden wall parallel to herself. She looked to her left and saw the same wall. She then realized that she was attached to that wall. What was happening? She couldn't remember anything. She looked down but slightly to her right and saw one of her legs over top of the other. She tried to lower her eyes more to see how they were attached. She saw a small gap between her crossed calves and noticed something brown filling it. She tried to focus her vision pulling her head downward as much as she could slightly, while ignoring the pain but yet it still made her squeal. The brown filling focused to a cylinder shape that looked to be running straight through her left calve that was crossed behind her right. She looked back to her normal view, as her chest began to rise rapidly causing more pain along her back. She was glued to the wall, and her legs were staked together. After this realization she screamed out till her throat dried.

-x-

"Ok, I'm going to need you to get me that file if you can – ok, yeah – well, yes it is important! – It's Agent Jeffrey Lawrence – ok, it better be here, thanks – yeah bye." Lawrence placed his phone down while his unstuttering fingers tapped away on his desk keyboard. He scratched his perfectly shaven chin as he leaned back on his chair trying to take in that last conversation he had on the phone. "Fucking lawyers, always getting in the way," he muttered. His eyes narrowed on the screen as an email popped up. He clicked it immediately.

_You never told me that Abbigail had a tolerance build up for Adderall. _

Lawrence froze.

_What? What do you mean?_

Lawrence took a deep breath and leaned forward. He gazed at the computer waiting for his messenger to respond.

_She survived the overdose. You didn't do your research. You failed._

Lawrence began to panic as he slammed each key on the keyboard as he typed in frustration.

_There is no record of her having ADHD! How was I supposed to know?!_

Lawrence kicked his trash can viciously causing it to topple over and fill the corner of his floor with scrambled paper.

_You still failed. _

His heart began to race. Lawrence was a man who did not except failure. Failure to him, even something as small as failure to fixing his favourite book that he mistakenly placed in the wash when he was a boy, or something grand like persuasion to which was his specialty, was not something he enjoyed. Failure to him was death to most. It was like losing your favourite pet, or your mother dying in front of your eyes and you can do nothing about it. His mind was spinning like spindle. His heart was dancing like it was at a competition and losing was not an option. His eyes raged with fear. Fear of what would happen next. That was not going to happen. He would not let it happen. Lawrence sat down in his chair and starred at the words that lingered on his tongue as he repeated them over and over again. _Failed. Failed. _ No, not this time. He was not going to let it fail this time.

"Maybe for you my friend, maybe this time it is you who has failed," he whispered softly. Lawrence deleted the emails and soon after a knock on his door was heard.

"It's open!"

To his surprise, someone he had hoped would not show up was there standing at his door. Leroy Jethro Gibbs. Lawrence looked up and saw the fire steaming through his hateful look.

"Gibbs? How - How can I help you?" Lawrence said nervously.

"You know very well how you could help me."

Lawrence gulped. He tried to remain calm; if he was to act innocent he had to play the part.

"I am sorry, but I do not."

"Abby was almost killed this morning. She was glued to the back wall of an abandoned cottage that was only known about by me and my team who were all knocked out by a drug in a needle. Her legs are gone; they had to be amputated because the wooden stake that was used to hold her legs together was moldy. She is in shock and now in a coma. She was supposed to be killed by a drug overdose but she wasn't overdosed enough. But you probably already knew that."

"Don't blame me for this, Gibbs. I am just as innocent as you are –" Lawrence said calmly.

"BULL SHIT!"

"Where is your proof? Or are you just going on your famous gut?"

Gibbs was silent. Lawrence had never felt so much hate radiate towards him from any man before. He straightened his back and tried to look professional as best as he could.

"I will find proof. And when I do you will be sentenced to life in prison."

"Good luck with that."

-x-

As much as Gibbs wanted evidence against Lawrence his mind was cluttered with the sounds of Abby's scream as she was glued and staked against the wall. He had no idea what she must have felt at that exact moment when she realized where she was. Such an innocent woman. She did not deserve any of this. Gibbs immediately gave Bishop full control of finding evidence against Lawrence. McGee was too distracted by worrying about Abby that his work ethic began to die down. Tony helped Bishop and he too gave her full control, for she was the first to question Lawrence.

"Got anything?" Tony asked. This was the first time he had spoken after finding Abby on the wall. He mostly communicated with humming sounds and gestures.

"Abby was at Lily's crime scene, right?" Bishop asked. Tony joined her at her desk knowing that something interesting was going to come up.

"Yeah."

"And Lily was at Marie's crime scene?"

"Fornell said she was."

"And was Marie at Sandra's crime scene?"

Tony paused as he tried to collect his thoughts on that matter.

"Mmhh I think you're on to something, Probie!" Tony jumped over to his desk and immediately grabbed the clicker for the TV screen that was present in the middle of the bullpen. He clicked it once and the crime scene reports of every victim were shown. He scrolled down to the section that was labelled: Agents Conducting Investigation. He stopped scrolling till Marie Collins was shown.

"Yeah, I think she investigated Sandra's scene."

"And John's? Was Sandra there for John's?"

"Hold your horses, Probie! I'm getting there!" Tony searched the report of John Gold's case. "She wasn't investigating it cause at the time it was homeland that was doing it. FBI only took over Sandra's when they were asked by the CIA to help and CIA then got a terrorism case that they had to focus more on so FBI took over which explains why Marie was there….but Sandra….I don't see her name here…"

"Hmmm… did she happen to present t at the scene unintentionally? Because so far all of our victims were present at the crime scenes of the other victims, so Sandra was just retiring right? Maybe she was walking around there or something? Check the crime scene photos!"

Tony did just that. He scrolled through all the crime scene photos of the first victim.

"Wait there stop!" Bishop exclaimed. Tony stopped at a photo that showed the by standers behind the yellow crime scene tape. Tony zoomed in and saw an older woman talking to one of the homeland agents.

"That's Agent Green that she's talking to. I can call him up and ask him if he remembers what they talked about!" Tony said excitedly. Bishop took a deep breath in relief. They had finally found some connection to the victims after weeks of searching. And it seemed so simple yet it was right under nose the whole time and she did not or anyone for that matter see it at all.

After a few phone calls later Tony concluded with Bishop that Sandra had been walking her dog and stumbled upon the scene. She knew Agent Green and asked him what was going on.

"So he targets someone who is present at each crime scene…" Tony concluded.

"You, me, McGee, Gibbs, and the paramedics who helped Abby off the wall were present at Abby's crime scene."

"So one of us will be the next target? But what about Abby?"

"He did his work; he's not going to try to kill her he did what he did. He isn't going to use someone twice, he'll probably just move on to another victim," Bishop admitted. "Where are the files that the British secret service gave us?"

"Oh right here." Tony handed Bishop the files that sat on his desk. She opened them.

"The only thing different is that in Europe Le Peintre didn't use messages with his victims but he killed in the same way."

"The maybe the painter is Lawrence and he is the copycat," Tony suggested.

"Maybe…or the painter wanted to be different since every painting he has redone was different. Maybe he started to give out messages so we could notice him more. Because in Europe is seems like he was only doing it as a hobby…"

"And now that he is here he wants some attention for his work and some praise. So he adds the messages to gather the attention. Oh man, this is just like the ring. You know you're dead when you get that call," Tony said. "Seven days. But instead it's just you will die soon but you won't know when with the painter."

"Yeah."

"Hey… Abby got two messages and Lily just three," Tony said with realization.

"Mhmm"

"How many did Sandra and John get?"

Bishop shook her head. Tony grunted as he clicked the remote and searched the reports that were displayed on the screen.

"Sandra got four and John had five… five, four, three, two….then one."

"He's counting down his victims," Bishop added.

"So his next one will be his last one?! Shit! Gotta tell Gibbs, now!" Tony said as he grabbed Bishop's arm and pulled her out of the bullpen.


	9. Chapter 9

"When you play, never mind who listens to you." ~Robert Schumann

Abby was not the same, not only was her body different but so was her mind. She was known for her gift of the gab and her selflessness, but all that faded away when she awoke in the hospital the following day. Only Gibbs and McGee were there out of the team members. She didn't even look at them. She just starred off into the distance as though her mind was shut off from the exterior environment. She didn't say a word. Gibbs would talk to her as though she was a coma patient. He never expected her to answer back. All she did was stare and stare at that blank wall across from her. Even when the nurses fed her, washed her, and changed her IV she did not stop looking at that wall. She didn't look at her knew mechanical legs that she received. She felt them upon her knees but she didn't know what they looked like. She didn't know what colour they were, how long, or if they looked like legs or were just plain metal. She only could tell by the feel of it. McGee initially thought she was blind; it only took a long explanation from the doctor for him to fully understand. Gibbs would hold her hand, and she would squeeze it. From that he knew she was still Abby, but just a little different.

McGee felt like it was Delilah all over again. He wanted to bring her in so badly to visit Abby, but she was away in Europe. He thought skype would work but Abby wouldn't say a word, leaving Delilah in an awkward position causing her to hang up earlier than expected. McGee had visited many times. Like Gibbs, he held her hand and she squeezed back. He would tell her stories that would lead her thoughts away from the incident. Only once she smirked slightly as he finished his fifth story that he was reading from a children's book. That story gave her memories of her brother, and the adventures they had. McGee's heart jumped with delight as that smirk came upon her face. He, however, had not seen it again after a few weeks. It did still, however, bring him hope that he could bring back Abby to her normal state of mind. This was his quest. He felt like he owed it to her. He had failed Delilah when she was in the hospital, by running away and avoiding her. He did not want that to happen with Abby. He was not going to let fear take over him any longer.

The days grew longer. Once the news that the victims were chosen from the crime scenes had spread to the other agencies they began to back out like cowards. No one wanted to risk it. Everyone was scared, and scared over just one killer. Not an army, but one killer. CIA and Homeland had said that it was NCIS' problem now; they had bigger issues to follow. FBI, decided to help in the background since they were originally given the case, but they argued night and day with Director Vance that NCIS was making more progress than they ever did on the painter case; therefore, NCIS should be the one to do and finish the case. Everyone basically was running like a pack of wild turkeys on thanksgiving, not knowing who will be shot at next. Lawrence kept quiet, he knew that NCIS was convinced that he was the killer; he knew that if he fucked up again the painter would point all evidence towards him. He couldn't afford that.

Tony had decided to take the night off for he the night before had taken an all-nighter and found nothing. Bishop, in fact, gave him the idea to go home. She slept at home while Tony was at NCIS all night last night. She insisted that he'd go home and rest. His stress level was reaching such a height that he couldn't sit any longer. Bishop was worried that he would go insane and that only she, Gibbs and McGee would be the ones who still had some kind of mind to solve this case. Once Tony had left, Bishop glanced around her and no one was seen. Only Gibbs' team, and Vance were the only ones brave enough to come to work. All other employees decided to work from home for the next couple months or truthfully until the painter has been caught. Bishop leaned back on her chair and took a deep breath. What to do? What to think? What to piece together? Since no one was around she decided to talk aloud and walk in a circle around the bull pen. She spoke softly and twizzled her pen in her right hand and she starred at the floor as she walked.

"McGee, Gibbs, Tony, or me. That's whose next. Or one of the agents who took down Abby from the wall, but I am pretty sure that the painter is getting more specific on agents who are trying to solve the case now instead of being present at a crime scene to take down a body. Ok….. Lawrence. How does he connect? He left Lily alone with the security guard giving access to her killing or a way to make it look like he isn't the killer. He messed with the tapes, I am sure of it. Abby…Abby….He was there … he saw Abby at the crime scene, so that's how she was picked. He wasn't at Abby's crime scene though, so how can the next target be chosen? Was he there secretly, and none of us saw him? Or was he the killer and knew we'd be there any way?"

Bishop stopped in her tracks. She placed her hands upon her hips and bit her lip. She nodded her head as though she made a quick decision. She grabbed her gun and her backpack from beside her desk and ran out the building to her car. She quickly got in and left the Navy Yard not caring of how fast her speed was. The streets were dark and the lamps were dimmed. She glanced at the time that blared out in green light: 12:10 a.m. She drove towards an apartment building and parked on the opposite end of the street. She hid her gun in her pants and walked across the street into the old stoned building. A couple who looked clearly intoxicated were stumbling out of the building opening the door for Bishop as she slipped in. She pulled out her phone and read the given address that was displayed on her screen.

"Okay, room 234," she muttered under her breath. She decided to take the stairs instead of the elevator. Once the second floor was reached she walked slowly down the hallway hoping her shoes would not make any clicking sounds. Then there it was room 234. She took a deep breath and pulled out her hair pin from her hair and began to unlock the door as quietly as she possibly could. She did not want whoever was inside to hear her. She opened the door and walked slowly into each room holding out her gun. To her relief the owner was not there. She put her gun away and closed the front door.

"Okay," she whispered. She began to search every shelf, every drawer, and anything she could find. She walked into the owner's bedroom and saw his laptop sitting upon the desk. She rushed towards it and opened it. The user had only hibernated it, therefore, leaving everything he had last used open. She searched through his email: Lawrence.456

"Here we go," she whispered as the last message that had seemed to have been attempted to be deleted but was unsuccessful, appeared.

She read it aloud. "Anthony Dinozzo, is your next target. I am leaving to give him your messages, right now." Her heart leaped as she read Lawrence's email to an unknown email address. "Tony!" Her voice was then cut off as she felt a string wrap around her neck and pulled backward causing her to choke.

-x-

Tony opened the door of his apartment and threw his bag upon the couch. He pulled off his tie and unbuttoned his shirt. He flipped on the light and saw a yellow sticky note on his kitchen table. "No…" He moved so fast towards that table that the wind from his movement pushed the sticky note to the floor. He picked it up and read it aloud, "It's sad that all good things come to an end."


	10. Chapter 10

"To be fully alive, fully human, and completely awake is to be continually thrown out of the nest." ~Pema Chödrön 

The string pulled upon Bishop's neck as the man who held it tightly yanked her backward. She chocked as she tried to search for her breath while her hands grabbed upon the string trying to pull it away from her neck. The man twisted the string behind her neck and tied it. He kicked her forward as she stumbled upon the bed in front of her. She grabbed the knife from her pocket and cut the string and then threw the knife at the man who unfortunately dodged it. She tried to catch her breath but the man grabbed her by her shirt and threw her across the room. Her body swung and hit the lamp on the desk causing it to smash as little glass pieces stabbed her leg. She cried out in pain. The man walked up to her and punched her jaw. He took out her gun from her side, to which she forget she even had, he threw it to the other end of the room. Bishop looked up and saw him. Lawrence.

"You're helping him… you're… helping the… painter…" she said as she gasped for every breath she could find. Lawrence laughed and grabbed the handle of the broken lamp.

"Good bye, Ellie. It has been a great pleasure!" Lawrence immediately stabbed Bishop's stomach with the broken lamp stick as she cried out. He twisted it as it dug deeper into her body causing her to yelp. Her breaths became shorter and her eyes became wider. Lawrence pulled out the stick and threw it across the room. He saluted her as she lay on the ground and bled.

"I would have been more sympathetic, but since you went through my stuff I decided to give you a slow and painful death."

-x-

Tony held the yellow sticky in his hand. He read the message over and over again. That's it then, he thought. He quickly pulled out his cell phone and dialed a number slowly. He pressed it to his ear as he waited hearing the ringing pass by. "You have reached the cell phone of Ziva David, I cannot come to the phone right now so please leave a message." The English message was then followed by Hebrew, and Arabic. Once the beep was heard Tony began to speak.

"Hey…Ziva, it's Tony. I know you have started a new life and aren't expecting a call from me but….ugh… I needed to call you. I regret, things. Lots of things. I regret not contacting you more, even if you told me not to. I regret, not staying with you in Israel. I regret not telling you that I love you…yeah. I still do, and still will. Um….You must be wondering why I am calling you and telling you this. I… I'm not gonna be here for very long…It's a long story….um…. yeah. So I love you, I have never stopped and I wanted you to know that before it is too late for me to do so. If you call me that'd be great, if not I understand. Love you, Bye." Tony put down his phone and smiled at Ziva's photo on his screen saver. He called his father that night, who also hadn't picked up, and left him a message. He did not mention the painter, he just mentioned his love.

He wanted to tell Gibbs, but he knew that if he did Gibbs would panic. He took a deep breath and crinkled up the sticky note and threw it out. He walked towards his kitchen and turned on his coffee maker. He waited while the water boiled and the coffee entering his cup. He tasted it after it was done and smiled. "Best coffee, still."

-x-

"Where's Tony? And where's Bishop?" Gibbs asked as he dialed his cell phone every five minutes but each number went to voice mail. McGee didn't say a word, for he knew that if he said 'I don't know' again Gibbs would flip a table. Gibbs dialed Tony's number one more time.

"Dinozzo, speaking."

"Dinozzo! Why the fuck were you not answering?!" Gibbs yelled through his cell phone.

"Sorry, Boss! I was running some errands and couldn't answer my phone. What's going on?"

"Is Bishop with you?"

"No..why?"

"Can't find her. Her cell phone isn't picking up. You were the last one to see her?"

"She stayed in the office when I left, Boss! I have no idea where she could have gone."

"Gibbs!" Fornell's voice roared through the NCIS halls as he ran towards him.

"Hold on a second, Tony," Gibbs said through the phone and took it down from his ear.

"Gibbs…I am so sorry," Fornell said as he stopped and was out of breath.

"What?"

-x-

Bishop's Body was white. Her stomach was stained with blood that had travelled to the floor and her unseeing eyes starred out into the distance. Gibbs stood in front of her, he was frozen. FBI agents were surrounding him picking up evidence and taking pictures. McGee and Tony did not dare come in.

"Who did this?" Gibbs asked as he tried to refrain from losing it.

"Lawrence. His apartment. His fingerprints on the murder weapon. He didn't show up to work this morning," Fornell answered.

"Would you excuse me," Gibbs said as he left the room. He stormed down the stairs and ran towards his car on the opposite side of the street. He sat inside and then paused. He pressed his hands upon his face and screamed. He screamed so loud and hit the side of his wheel with his hands. He lost it. He lost, Bishop. He failed her, like he failed Kate and Jenny. Everything was crashing down. He couldn't protect anyone. He couldn't protect Abby, Bishop, no one. For the first time in his life he was terrified. He didn't know what to do. He was confused, he was angry, he upset, he was every emotion that would bring his mind into an endless roller coaster that would do nothing but cause him pain. He gave her a slow painful death. What kind of a man was he? Lawrence… that bastard! Once he stopped screaming. His blood began to rush towards his cheeks. He calmed down, and pressed his key into the key hole and started the car.

-x-

"Abby," McGee said softly as he entered her hospital room. She still didn't look at him. Only the wall.

"Abby, I've got some bad news…"

Abby turned her head and looked at McGee for the first time since her incident. She saw the tears within his eyes. She then began to cry too. Her first time showing emotion since her incident.

"Who is it this time?" She asked softly. McGee walked up to her and held her hand. He then knelt down and gazed into her eyes.

"Bishop… but it wasn't the painter this time. It was Agent Lawrence."

Abby gasped and squeezed McGee's hand even tighter. "Why did he do that?"

"We think he is helping the painter. Cause if he was the painter he would have killed her and then displayed her like the painter's victims. And he would have cleaned the evidence, but he ran away instead."

"You need to catch him," Abby said softly but yet roughly.

"We will catch him and we will make him tell us who the painter is, and all of this will be over."

"I want to say I hope so, but I don't have any hope anymore. It's gone, McGee. My hope is gone. He's going to kill us all!"

"No! Abby! He is not! You have to have some hope Abby! Please."

"I don't know if I can."

"Please, for me. Have some hope for me."

Abby took a deep breath and nodded.

"I'll try."


	11. Chapter 11

"The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. It is the source of all true art and science." ~Albert Einstein

The night was silent. The only sounds that stirred within the darkness were the sounds of a clock ticking in the living room. The sound of a ruffled bag being packed appeared soon after. A desperate Agent Dinozzo scrambling through every corner of his apartment gathering anything valuable and stuffing it into his back pack. Once he was packed he through the bag upon his back and walked out the door. He decided not to take his car to where he was planning to go. He decided to walk instead. His eyes moved rapidly in different directions, catching a glimpse of every person whom he saw on the street. He turned the corner and head through a dark alley way. He kept looking behind him. After a few minutes he stopped in front of a dusty old door. He took a deep breath and headed inside. He was greeted by a long rusted staircase. He ran up it hoping that it wouldn't break as he took each step. He turned the corner as he reached the top and entered a small stuffy room. A familiar man was sitting at a desk surrounded by monitors and computers. He looked behind with a frightened look but instantly relaxed after seeing Tony's face.

"Relax, McGee it's only me!" Tony said reassuringly. He closed the door behind him, and turned around to see a blonde woman with a white bandage wrapped around her waist standing beside McGee.

"How was my crime scene?" she asked as she approached Tony.

"It was an Oscar winning performance, Probie!" Tony smiled as he began to unpack his backpack.

"Tony, did you – "McGee started.

"Yes, McGee! I called the numbers you set up and left them the messages. Nice Ziva message though! How did you get her voice mail to sound exactly like her?"

McGee swung around his chair and faced Tony. "Just took some old voice recordings we had with her doing interviews and interrogations and I mashed them up together."

"Ahh, ok. How are you feeling, Probie?" Tony asked the blonde woman.

"I'm okay. That lamp stick thing he used dug right through the blood pouch I made and my vest! So I got cut a little," she answered.

"Did the knock out drug I gave you work well enough?" McGee asked.

"Yeah, it did. I used it quickly after Lawrence left the place and after I called Gibbs. Where is he anyway?"

"Right here," Gibbs answered as he entered the room. He smiled as he saw Bishop standing in front of him in one piece.

"McGee! report!" Gibbs ordered.

"Okay! So I told Abby that Bishop was killed by Lawrence… it was very hard, Boss. After this she's gonna kill me for lying. Anyway, I checked the surveillance in the hospital and it was hacked the week Abby was brought to the hospital so when I was talking to Abby, Lawrence and or the painter were listening. The bug that I installed in everyone's home went off in Tony's. It's sent me a sound recording of someone bringing the note to Tony's but I am eighty percent sure that this person wasn't Lawrence –"

"Well, Lawrence was busy at that time," Bishop cut in as she messaged her wound with her hand.

"- well whoever put the note there also put listening devices that my bug was able to connect to. They heard Tony call Ziva's number and his dad's number that I intersected and brought straight to a voice mail account that I made for the both of them. They also caught Tony leaving and packing his things. So I think and hope that they were convinced that he was running away. Also, you were right Boss! Someone was watching you after you left Bishop's crime scene. I was able to hack into and they were filming you while you were screaming in the car…how did you do that, by the way?"

"Pure talent!" Tony answered for Gibbs. Gibbs, smiled at that response.

"And you're positive that they can't find us here or trace us here?" Gibbs asked.

"Positive! I got a new system that will automatically hack into everything that comes close to this place. It's untraceable," McGee added.

"Good job, McGee! Hey, Bishop," Gibbs said as he walked towards her and placed his hands on her cheek. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"You were lucky that Lawrence did almost exactly what you predicted."

"Yeah, I was. Man, was it scary though! The choking with string I didn't think he'd do, that really caught me by surprise! I expected him to use a gun or a knife, but i got a lamp instead."

Gibbs smiled and held her close. After he released her, he took the coffee cup from the desk and began to drink it.

"Hey, McGee! Don't worry about it, Abby will understand when this is all over," Gibbs added noticing McGee's glum look. Gibbs always knew what he was thinking. "Did you tell Vance?"

"About what? – oh! Right! Yes! I sent him the untraceable message about the plan and he replied saying that CIA and Homeland are having a few agents working low key on the forensics and evidence we gave them. So far, we assume that the killer suspects that they all bailed out from the case."

"Great! Now that that's done, Tony do you have the message he gave you?" Gibbs asked.

"ughh…yeah about that… I ripped it up and threw it out…." Gibbs sighed in disappointment.

"But in my own defence! They're always clean and are useless in the forensics lab!"

Gibbs shook his head, "Dinozzo, Dinozzo…"

McGee gave Tony a disappointed look while Tony responded with a mouthed 'what?' which soon was followed by a 'shut-up'.

"Okay, Lawrence is not the killer but he's helping him. He's our only chance to catching this bastard and we gotta do it before he tries to kill Tony. Bishop, you have to stay here and stay hidden. No one can know you're alive, got it?" Gibbs asked.

Bishop nodded.

"Okay, now let's straighten this ass hole!"

* * *

Didn't see that one coming, eh? I know this chapter is quite short, but i did it so just this scene would be present. Thanks so much for the reviews i really do appreciate it! I know some of you were a bit frazzled by Tony acting OOC and Bishop being killed off and i should have put a warning...but that was all part of the plan! :) So do not worry, I wasn't planning on making Tony OOC and for Bishop to be killed off I only wanted you to think that! ;) and most of you did so that actually makes me really happy! :) Please review, I would love to hear them! thanks so much every one i really appreciate everything you guys have done! i hope ya'll will enjoy the next chapter! :D


	12. Chapter 12

Bishop sighed i"If your actions inspire others to dream more, learn more, do more and become more, you are a leader." ~John Quincy Adams

Bishop sighed in frustration as she positioned her red wig upon her head. She stared into the mirror disappointed with every look she tried. She shrugged her shoulders and blew the red curl that dangled in front of her eyes. "Are you sure that I don't look at all like me?" She asked while Tony packed his backpack on the desk behind her.

"You haven't put the face mask on yet, so you can't say that you don't look like you," He commented.

"I thought Gibbs didn't want me in the field anyway."

"Ya, but that was before I suggested my brilliant plan!" Tony smiled as Bishop turned around to face him. "Okay, remember you're a guest at the motel that I am 'running away' to and –"

"Agent James Coldvin of the CIA will be playing as my husband, McGee already told me."

"Great! Then I don't have to explain!"

"Tony…"

Bishop looked at him concerned as the smile drifted from his face.

"How are you not terrified? You're next on the list, and I feel so awful that we're using you as bait…"

"Hey," He said to calmingly while he placed his hands upon her shoulders. "Don't worry about me, I've been a target before and look I am still here!"

"Yeah, but this killer is different."

"Which is why I have to be used as bait so we can catch him."

Bishop looked down in defeat. She nodded in reassurance and then turned back towards the mirror.

-x-

The day was cold. Autumn had squeezed its way in through the wind and the trees. The sky had darkened and the leaves travelled with the blowing wind. A man walked from the parking lot of an old motel and he gazed down at his feet watching the dust roll off his leather shoes. He looked up to see the small kinky entrance with narrow doors that seemed only large enough for the small to pass through. He carried nothing but the contents that were present in his pockets. His coat was somewhat formal, in fact more business-like. He held his head high as he walked through those narrow doors. He glanced at the reception where there stood an old Middle Eastern man. The old man smiled at him, but the visitor only answered back with a light nod. "How can I help you, good sir?" the old man asked.

"One room, for two nights please." The man spoke rather low and dully. The old man, however, kept smiling regardless of the dull emotion given off of the visiting man.

"Room, 43. Here are your keys, sir."

The visiting man took them without question. The old man handed him the sign up book, and the visiting man signed it with 'Robert Lawson'. He left soon after, smiling to himself. He walked down a long hallway and reached room 43. His eyes lurked as he saw a couple walk by, giggling amongst themselves. The redheaded woman looked back at the visitor. He admired her beauty, but looked away quickly. He opened his door and headed inside. He took a deep breath and through himself onto the bed and closed his eyes. He wanted to relax but he was too paranoid to do so. His phone began to ring inside his pocket. He pulled it out immediately and glanced at the number. The ID claimed the identity of the caller to be unknown, but the man knew exactly who it was. He picked it up and heard a familiar voice on the other end. The voice was of a French man, whose difficult accent took this man some getting used to. However, after a few phone calls, that French man's voice would be nothing but in his mind all day long.

"Have you abandoned me?"

"No, I haven't. I just need to get away for a while," the man answered.

"So you are running away? Not very good choice, my friend. I know why you run. You killed that NCIS agent and you fear that there is a man hunt for you. You should not worry, I have everything under control. I have been following this – Tony Dinozzo- and it seems that he has given up hope. But there is one thing you should worry about, and that is your mistakes. You failed me twice. So, what will I do with you?"

The man's heart began to race. He sat up on the bed and thought of his words carefully.

"I have given you access to your victims so you can use them in your art, and this is how I am repaid? I discovered you! Without me, you wouldn't be as famous as you are today!"

"Yes, you are right. But, I have no need for you anymore."

After those words were spoken softly the French man hung up. Lawrence looked down at the phone. He then looked up at the wall in front of him and threw his phone directly at it. He got off the bed and quickly opened his door. He slammed it shut behind him and leaned over the railing of the balcony of the hallway of the motel. The cold wind brushed his hair away from his face. In the corner of his eye he saw man with a backpack walking towards the motel. He wore a blue baseball cap and a hoodie. The man walked nervously looking all around him in every direction. Lawrence chuckled to himself.

"Well, look who it is, Tony Dinozzo," He muttered to himself. "


End file.
